Eden
by The Homunculi Twins
Summary: Expert: "Son of the Last True Prime""What the hell is going on?""cheating on me"Brandon Wells, forty-six, four ex-wives, three dead wives""Sam run!""BUMBLEBEE!""You, will pay, with your life, human""Oh my god...Sam, you do know that you have three giant robots in you're backyard...right?" *AU*Warning: Language, Child Abuse, Violence**Mpreg Slash*Read at own Risk*Sum inside*
1. Eden

**Title: **Eden

**Original Author: **YAOIFANBOY69

**Adopted by: **The Homunculi Twins

**Beta: **NONE at the MOMENT

**Genre: **ADVENTURE/FAMILY/FRIENDSHIP/MYSTERY/MINOR ANGST/MINOR ROMANCE/HURT/COMFORT

**Story/Anime: **Transformers – Bayverse

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Lately, Samuel Witwicky has been having strange, haunting dreams. His dreams only increase when Will and Sarah divorce, Mikaela returns to her previous bitchy self, and the Autobots have picked up a strange Cybertron signal on earth. What does it mean? What does this signal mean? *AU Trigger Warning: Language, Child Abuse, Violence, Mpreg**Read at own Risk*

**Warning**(**s**)**:**Mention of child abuse, mention of adult/sexual themes, violence, character death, alive!Jazz, mech/mech, mech/femme, mech/human, language, character bashing (Mikaela Banes), AllSpark!Sam/Will/Miles, Prime!Sam/Will/Miles, Half-Human!Sam/Will/Miles, Daddy!Optimus, Momma!Elita, mention of male pregnancy, male pregnancy, mention of negligence, mention of fe/male anatomy, violence against a minor

**Pairing**(**s**)**:** Bumblebee/Sam, Ironhide/Will, Barricade/Miles, Optimus/Elita-One, Ratchet/Wheeljack, Prowl/Jazz

**Disclaimer: **The Homunculi Twins don't own the **Transformers** movie arc, nor any and all **Transformers **characters that decide they want to appear in this story. They belong to **Hasbro **and **Michael Bay**. We do, however, own this plot, this account, and any and all OC's that pop up. The only profit we make from this story is the reviews, because we're review whores. Thank you, and enjoy the story.

**A/N1:**

"Talking"

"Foreign Language (_Translation)"_

"_**Over the Phone/Reading"**_

'_Thought'_

_**'Sparkling Speech'**_

_**::Com-Link::**_

_::Bonded Com-Link::_

_Book/Magazine Titles_

_Letter/Passage of a Book_

"_Passage of a Book Read Aloud"_

_**Fl**__ashbacks/__**Dr**__eams__**- s**__tartand en__**d**_

**A/N2: **The list below is the list for Cybertronian time. This list will be used in all Transformers FanFictions. For various times, like Breem, Cycles, Klik, Groons, Vorns, etc. we will be putting the translation besides. So it will look like this: _Bumblebee shuffled nervously on his pedes, his optics staring just above Optimus' shoulder plating. "Hey, Boss-Bot? Can...Can I talk to you for a nano-klik (_second_)?"_

**Astrosecond **~.273 seconds

**Breem **~8.3 minutes

**Cycle **~1.5 minutes

**Deca-cycle **~10 days

**Groon **~1 hour

**Joor **~ Hour

**Klik **~1.2 minutes

**Megacycle **~2.6 hours

**Nanoclick/Nano-klik **~1 second

**Orbital Cycle **~1 month

**Orn **~13 days

**Solar cycle **~1 day

**Stellar cycle**~1 year

**Vorn **~83 years

**A/N3:** This is inspired by _Prowlsgirl_ story _**'Dark Secrets'**_ and _Sinead Rivka_'s _**'Things We Don't Tell Humans'**_. They are wonderful stories, and hope that you will go and read it as well!

**A/N4: **Some quick information about a few terms you _will_ be hearing in this FanFiction.

**Holoform: **Holoforms are hard light projections created by a Cybertronians nanites. They allow the Cybertronian to move around their environment in a mock form of the ruling species. For example, the human race; a Cybertronian Human Holo would look like a human version of themselves with metal pieces on their 'bodies'.

**Frag: **Cybertronian for 'fuck'

**Slag:** Cybertronian for 'shit' 'crap' and other forms of cuss words

**Berth: **Cybertronian for 'bed'

**HUD: **Heads Up Display – this is a display in various forms of technology, including cars, planes, and computers. On the car, it is the area in front of your steering wheel that shows the gas, speed, etc.

**Sparkmate: **Cybertronian equivalent to a soul mate

**Guardian: **This is the closest translation to the Cybertronian word. A Cybertronian Guardian is a bot who protects a charge with their life. Think of the Witness Protection in the United States. Normally, the Guardian and the Charge form a bond via exchanging data; however, in this case, the Guardianship between Bumblebee and Sam, their bond is a bit different. More will be explained at a later date.

**Unicron: **Cybertronian version of the Devil

**Primus: **Cybertronian version of God

For more terminology, see: www. fanfiction s/4489172/1/Transformers-Dictionary (_remove spaces_). This is a Transformers Dictionary by **Pagen Godess** here on FF.

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**_PLEASE NOTE: THIS PART ISNOTA CHAPTER! THIS IS THE INFO PAGE. STANDARD DISCLAIMER, SUMMARY, PAIRINGS, ETC._**

**_PLEASE CLICK 'NEXT' TO SEE THE BEGINNING!_**


	2. To Far

**Welcome to our new story, 'Eden'** _We hope you enjoy reading it, as much as we enjoy writing it!_ **This one is not a Fem! Sam, but it does have YAOI/SLASH!**

_**So! Without further ado, ONWARDS!**_

x-(-X-X-)-x

**Chapter One**

_**To Far**_

_**Da**__rkness…_

_It wrapped around him in a, strangely comforting way, almost like a thick wool blanket, or a motherly hug. He didn't bother opening his eyes, knowing that, even if he did, he wouldn't be able to see anything. A gentle thrum of...something vibrated the strange blackness around him, making him melt even further into the 'embrace'._

_He wanted to open his eyes; he really did. He wanted to see what was being kept from him, but he knew that it wasn't time yet. He didn't know _how_ he knew, he just...did. It was similar to that feeling that he had gotten when he and Mikaela had gotten into Bumblebee. Instinct. He didn't understand it, but if there was one thing that he knew from all those Witwicky family lessons, it was trust your instincts. _

_A tremor was felt in the darkness, and he knew that he was waking up. He didn't want to; he wanted to stay in the warmth of this darkness. He didn't want to wake up – he had to wait for _Them_. Only _They_ could help him, and, in turn, he could help _Them_._

_He felt his body shift on his bed, a strange sensation, telling him to get up while his mind yelled at his body to shut up. He didn't want to wake up, yet. He wanted to stay; stay here where it was safe, where _They _were. A faint whimper escaped his throat, salty tears beginning to well behind his eyes; he knew that it was to late to go back._

_It was only after he heard _Their_ voices, the sooth, comforting tenor, neither male nor female, that he finally stopped resisting, a faint smile flickering on his face. _They_ were still here – _They_ wouldn't leave him wither he be awake or asleep. With _Their_ words resounding in his head, he opened his eyes._

"Resist not, Little One, for the Time of New is near. We will not leave you, Samuel James Witwicky, son of the Last True _**Prime."**_

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Honey brown eyes tiredly blinked away the sleep as Samuel James Witwicky, only son to Ronald and Judith Witwicky, senior at Tranquility High School, and friend/Ambassador to the Autobots, a race of giant, autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron, slowly sat up, letting his dark, navy blue blankets pool around his thin, scared waist. Rubbing his eyes with a lightly tanned hand, the almost eighteen year old blearily looked around his room, coming to rest on his time bomb alarm clock, groaning at the teasing numbers on the dash.

Three fifty-six AM. _'Damn it!'_

With a groan of exhaustion, the brunet flopped back down on his bed, staring at the metal bars of the top part of his bunk bed. His feet, now fully healed from the bloody gashes that once littered their soles, burrowed into the warmth of the dark blue, Spider-Man comforter. One scarred arm shimmered down to pull the sheets back up to his chin, and lay there, his mind slowly beginning to wander.

Five months. It'd been five months since he first bought his 'car' and his life was changed forever, as cliché as it sounds. Five months since he met the Autobots and the Army Rangers; since he destroyed both Megatron, the Deception Tyrant, once Co-Ruler alongside Optimus Prime, and the AllSpark, an ancient artifact of the Cybertronian race that helped keep their planet and, in extension, them, alive.

It had been stressful, no doubt about it; then again, he _was_ a Witwicky; nothing in the life of a Witwicky was without stress. When he and Mikaela, his now _ex_-girlfriend, had returned to Tranquility, almost three weeks after the attack in Mission City, which had been covered up by the government as a 'Terrorist Attack' (not totally untrue, but at the same time, still a lie), covered in bandages, bruises, and scratches, it hadn't taken long for the rest of their peers to start hounding them about what had _really_ happened. No matter how much Sam said it, the people of Tranquility weren't stupid.

Sam had been anxious about that; he, without a doubt, on of the _worst _liars in the history of history. It took Bumblebee, Optimus, Mikaela, Will, and Simmons – the bastard – over _two_ _fucking days_ to get him comfortable with the governments cover story. Said two days consisted of a _lot _of hair pulling, gear blowing, migraine induced comas, but in the end, he managed it.

It didn't matter if there were a few people who didn't believe them (his neighbor, Ms. McLean, an elderly lady who was all but another grandmother to Sam, said that knew he was lying, but didn't push it. She knew that when he wanted to tell her, he would); so long as the majority of Tranquility believed that on the day of the terrorist attack, Sam had been going to Mission City to retrieve his stolen car, that had, in the end, been destroyed, along with Mikaela, who had driven him there as a '_thank you_' for taking her home the other night, everything was alright.

The rest of the three weeks, after all but forcing the cover story into hundreds of civilians who had witnessed the epic battle of the Titans, had been spent setting up a treaty between the Autobots and the Human race. It was a long, brutal three weeks, spent racing back and forth between office and hanger, talking to politician after politician. Explaining, along with the help of William Lennox and his team, various things about the Human culture that could not, sadly, be explained over the internet.

During that time, Sam had finally discovered just _why_ he never wanted to go into politics; the damn thing was a mess. So when the time came, the Treaties signed and sealed, wounds slowly, but surely fully healed, and so many damn disclosures signed that the brunet thought he was going to drown, Sam had bee ecstatic when he was told he would be able to go home, away from the rodeo called politics.

Until Optimus and the President asked him to be one of the Autobot liaisons. Sam had felt his entire body go still, his eyes wide. No doubt he had looked like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. Somehow, the teenager had managed to choke out the question of who else would be a liaison, and why, _in all things that are fucking holy, did they fucking pick him?!_ Later on, Sam would apologize for his caress language in front of the President, but at the moment? Nope; no fucks were given.

He, a junior in High School, a fucking _teenager_, had just been asked, by the most powerful man in America and a fucking giant _robot_, to be a liaison between the entire _fucking world_, and a _fucking group of kick ass, giant alien robots_.

Sam was not ashamed to say that his world had gone dark for a few moments. The only reason _why_ he hadn't been ashamed was because, thank every God out there, he had not fainted in front of two people who could kill you and get away with it.

Sam had, of course, said yes, after a bit of thought and talking to his parents, who had been released and prepped shortly after the Mission City fiasco. His father had been a little wary, though it was with a good reason; he was a Witwicky by blood, unlike his mother; all Witwicky's were wary of the Government, but had reluctantly relented after hearing that he would be receiving pay and a scholarship to any college Sam wanted. His mother, on the other hand, had threatened everyone, _including_ the President and the Autobots, with her baseball bat. It had taken Sam, Ron, Will, several Secret Service members, and Bumblebee to pull the woman off the two leaders.

Suffice to say, Optimus and President Bush knew what would happen if so much as a _hair_ got damaged on Sam's head as a liaison. Ratchet had, for some very odd reason, been immensely proud of the human female.

Well, strange, until it was explained that Ratchet used a Cybertronian equivalent of an Earth Wrench to enforce his 'rules' and to protect those he cares about. Sam, the ex-Army Rangers, Mikaela, and the rest of the humans minus Judy, vowed on that day to _never_ make Ratchet angry. Especially when they saw the CMO and housewife begin to chat about their favorite places to bludgeon. Ron and Sam had nearly ran away then and there.

Not long after the Incident, as they liked to call it, Sam had accepted the position, and officially became Ambassador Samuel James Witwicky, liaison to the Autobots of Cybertron. Every time he heard his title, the brunet would puff up in pride, though it was quickly shot down by Bumblebee, who would begin to tease the young human mercilessly.

Sam yawned, his jaw cracking at the force, flickering his gaze over to his alarm clock, groaning again when he saw that barely even two minutes had passed. With a tired, reluctant, but resigned, sigh, he once again sat up, shifting his body around so his feet lay on his forest green carpet. Standing up slowly so he didn't bash his head into the metal frame – _oh, the sweet, painful memories_ – the teenager shuffled his way over to his surprisingly clean mahogany desk.

In the three weeks he had stayed with the Autobots and the Army Rangers at Hoover Dam, it had been viciously drilled into his head to always have his living area clean and organized so it was easily accessible. Now, instead of all of his stuff being in piles scattered across his room, everything had a place.

His books were all organized by genera-alphabetical order, author, and series placed in a large, homemade oak bookshelf that Epps had given him – his wife, Monique, had taken a woodworking class while he had been in Qatar – that stretched from the edge of his top bunk, all away around the room. All his notebooks and sketch pads where stacked neatly next to his desk, his art supplies all placed in drawers that were all labeled (Paints, pencils, pens, rulers, pastels, crayons, paintbrushes, erasers, markers, etc.) of the rosewood cabinet his parents had gotten him six years ago. His desk had been scrubbed down and everything put away, leaving only his laptop, printer, and a plain biege lamp on its dark mahogany surface.

All of his clothes were either hung up or folded (military style), arranged by color, size, and type (pants sorted into sweatpants, denim, baggy, and skinny, shirts were either in short– or long–sleeved) in his closet or dresser. His more, _inappropriate_, posters were tossed (the only reason they were up there was because his cousin Sparkplug had stuck them up, and he'd never bothered to take them back down) and the original movie posters he'd spent a pretty dime for hung up proudly. His beds were always made after getting up in the morning, his little bathroom scrubbed spotless, his old gym lockers that Buster, his Uncle's youngest son, had given him twelve years prior cleaned, repainted, and filled with miscellaneous items.

All in all, it easily passed the inspection Lennox and Epps had given it after practically forcing him into his room with a vacuum, mop, bucket, and Windex the first time they had visited the California-Witwicky home.

Slave-drivers.

Snorting quietly to himself at the thought of the two military men who had easily become older brother figures, Sam peeked out his window, his pale pink lips pursing in disappointment when he saw that Bumblebee wasn't back yet. The yellow 'bot had been called in by Optimus around seven that evening for an emergency meeting with the Secretary of Defense and had, very reluctantly, left. Thankfully, Sam hadn't needed to attend, as it was just a discussion about where the new base was to be located.

Sam could clearly see that he was uncomfortable with leaving his Charge by himself, even though Sam was now able to defend himself a lot better should a 'Con attack. It had only been at his insistent encouragement and several promises that the human would call the 'Bot every hour – or Joor, as the Autobots called their hours – with updates on his condition, did the yellow scout finally go.

Shaking his head fondly at his overprotective Guardian, Sam reached over and turned on the lamp closest to his bed before going over to his book shelf and grabbing a large history book that he had bought a few days ago. Ever since Mission City, the teen's grades, which used to be a solid B average, every A that was earned from hours and hours of hard work and studying, were now solid A's. It had honestly surprised him and his parents when he got his six page essay from Lit back and saw a giant red A on the corner. It nearly caused them all heart attacks when those A's continued to keep coming.

Holding the large, well over three-thousand paged tome in his arms, he settled himself down on his bed, quickly becoming immersed in the books stories.

It was well passed six in the morning when Sam was jerked out of his rendition of Emanuel Leutze's painting of George Washington crossing the Delaware – as soon as he had seen the copy of the painting in his book, he had quickly grabbed his sketch book and pencils and attempted to recreate the master piece – when his phone began to blast out Basshunter's _'All I Ever Wanted'_. Feeling his eye tick, the brunet made a mental note to punch his best friend in the arm for once again changing his ringtones, he quickly snatched the black device off of his night stand.

With a quick glance at the screen, showing _'Will Lennox'_ he quickly clicked 'Answer' and placed it by his ear.

"Yes?" Sam asked, curiosity in his voice. After the whole Mission City fiasco, then later on the break-up with Mikaela, he and Will had gotten a lot closer, exchanging calls and e-mails about things that had been either troubling them or just questions about various things.

"_**Sam? I'm sorry, did I wake you up?**_" Will's voice came softly over the speaker, indicating that he most likely held his two year old daughter, Annabelle.

"Not at all, Will. I've been up for a few hours now. Is...is something wrong?" Sam asked moving his sketchbook off his lap so he could swing his legs off his bed. There was a brief pause of hesitance on the other end, a slight hitching of his friends voice when he replied next.

"_**You...you could say that.**_" The Major's voice was still soft, but Sam could clearly hear that the man was just barely holding in the urge to cry. With a mental curse, the teenager quickly began to put his shoes on. He knew that the Major and his wife had been having problems lately, thanks to the various calls they had made over the months since the ex-Army Ranger hadn't wanted to tell Ironhide, his Autobot Guardian, or Epps, so it wasn't unusual for the Major to call him at odd hours of the day and talk about nonsense things, just to take his mind off of things. Sam did the exact same thing with Will; whenever something was bugging him, and he didn't want to talk to Bumblebee or Miles about it, he would call the Major.

"What's the matter Will? Are you okay? Is 'Bell okay?"

There was a sound of rustling heard on the other end, most likely the tall military man shifting his baby girl into a better position. "_**Right now; no, I'm not okay, but I will , I-I need a favor. Could you come pick me up at my house?**_"

Sam felt his eyes narrow; this did not sound good. "Sure, no problem, but I want to know what's going on later."

"_**Alright. Do you remember how to get to the house?**_" Will sounded grateful that the teen wasn't pestering him, which caused his wariness to creep up higher.

"Yeah, be there in half an hour or so." Sam said before hanging up.

Sam gave a small groan of wariness, rubbing his face tiredly, before pulling on a pair of raggedy jeans. Grabbing his phone and an overnight bag that was both Military and Autobot approved – he learned the hard way that you had too always expect the unexpected – the teen bounded down the stairs. Stopping by the key rack to grab his mother's keys to her green Honda Hybrid, he unlocked the garage door where his parents cars usually sat, though only his mother's car rested in now he opened the front door and got in. His dad's nineteen sixteen Austin Healey three-thousand MKII was gone, having been taken by his parents when they went over to Sparkplug's property for the next three and a half days.

Originally, all of the Cali-Witwicky's had been invited to Sparkplug's property in Washington State for a mini-family to celebrate the birth of Daniel Witwicky, his cousin Spike's only son, but Sam wasn't able to go due to school. Sparkplug had been disappointed, but proud that his nephew was focusing on his school work, then proceeded to force the younger Witwicky into promising that he would be there over Christmas. Of course, that had led to Judy and Sparkplug making plans for another family reunion, only this time, where _everyone_, would be able to come.

Checking the fuel tank, Sam made a mental note to stop on the way to school later on and fill it up. With a groan of the engine, Sam quickly backed out of the driveway and headed off towards the ex-Army Ranger's farm house that he had bought with Sarah five months ago.

It took Sam a little over forty-five minutes to reach the large, seven acre farm, though when he did, he nearly crashed into a tree in shock.

Sitting sullenly on a hay stack in front of the barn, which was a good forty feet away from the house, was Major William Lennox. The thirty year old was wearing a dark jacket – Sam couldn't make out the color due to Will being in the shadow's of the barn – with a pair of dirty jeans on. His boot clad feet hung off the edge of the hay, idly swinging back and forth. In his arms rested a tiny figure, her sandy blonde hair the only thing showing thanks to large, baby blue comforter surrounding her tiny form.

What shocked the teenager even further were the large, cardboard boxes of what was most likely the Major's and Annabelle's stuff, stacked neatly together in front of the man, along with various pieces of furniture strapped to a trailer. Pulling up in front of the Major, Sam quickly undid his seat belt and bolted from the car, his eyes wide at the sullen, furious face of Will. Will just shook his head as he carefully scooted off the hay and back onto the ground. Shifting his daughter so she was more comfortable in his arms, the Major walked over to the teenager.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" Sam demanded softly, though urgently. Just because he didn't want to wake the Major's daughter, didn't mean he wasn't going to get to the bottom of this. Annabelle didn't deserve to get woken up so early; she was such a sweet little baby; didn't scream or cry like others did.

"Not now Sam; I'll tell you when we get to Robert's," Will replied warily. Sam stared long and hard at the major, searching his eyes, before nodding.

"Fine. I don't like this, I don't like the look of this, but I won't ask." With that said, the teenager, went over to the back door and opened it, banishing one of his mothers garden boxes to the trunk. Getting out, he silently went to where the two year old's car seat sat innocently on the ground and grabbed it, easily strapping it into the Honda.

Will sent the teenager a grateful look as he gently placed his daughter into the car, while Sam began to load as many boxes as he could into the trunk. After placing about four of the twenty plus boxes inside, Sam, knowing he wouldn't be able to fit any more inside, closed the trunk softly but firmly. Looking up, he saw Will placing more of the boxes next to his daughter, leaving only about nine boxes unable to fit inside. Turning to look at the dark haired man, Sam asked, "Do you have a couple of bungee cords we could use to put the boxes on top?"

Will looked thoughtful for a moment, before nodding. "Yeah, they should be in the barn. Give me a sec, I'll grab 'em."

Sam nodded his head at the man's words before picking up the boxes and placing them on the roof of the car. Once all the boxes were atop, he stepped onto the hood and quickly began to arrange them better so that nothing would fall off. It was just as Sam and gotten everything packed tightly that Lennox returned, holding several bungee cords and a blue tarp. At Sam's questioning look, the man explained, "Just in case it rains."

Sam grinned in reply and, with the Major's help, hooked the cords up and around the boxes, the tarp placed on top of the boxes, but under the cords so it didn't blow off.

Tugging on the cords to make sure they were secure, Sam looked up at the major. "Do you wanna drive, or should I?"

"Seeing as its your mother's car, I'm going to let you drive." the man replied, grinning when Sam grimaced at the thought of what his mother might do to him if he let any one else driver her 'precious baby'. "Right. Stupid question."

Hopping into the front seat, Sam started up the Honda and quickly pulled forward, before going into reverse, gently easing his way towards the trailer. Will helped guide the Honda until he was able to lower the hitch and attach the Honda to the trailer. After going through the standard check up – checking brakes, turn signals, etc. – he quickly got into the passenger side and buckled up. With one last glance at the man, Sam easily pulled out of the property.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Sam glanced at the ex-Army Ranger.

"Okay, now you're going to tell me what this was all about or I'm going to call Ironhide and let you deal with him." Sam said firmly. The brunet had a sinking feeling as to what had happened, but he prayed to whatever deity was out there that he was wrong. When he saw Will shift in his seat, a brief flash of fury and sadness crossing his face, that Sam knew that he was most likely right.

"Sam, I really don't think-" Will began.

"No. You listened when I needed to bitch about Mikaela cheating on me when I didn't want Bee or Miles to know. You listened to me rant about Trent, and all of my other silly little problems when you, a grown ass, _military _adult, could have been doing something else instead of listening to a high schooler complain to you. Now, you are either going to tell me right now, or when we get back to my house and are done unloading all of your items into our spare room, because there is no way in hell that you're moving in with that pack-rat you call a best friend."

Will sighed heavily; he really didn't want to burden the Witwicky family, but Sam was right. Robert was a pack rat of the highest sort, and he needed to tell someone about what was going on or else his feelings would fester and get worse and he didn't want that. Monique was, sadly, no help at all, being a pack-rat herself.

"You know how Sarah and I have been having problems, ya?" At Sam's nod, he continued, "Well, I started to notice little things with Sarah that I hadn't thought much of when I was deployed to Qatar. When we first met, she would always spend at least half the day with me, even if we were just sitting at home in shorts and a t-shirt, watching a marathon of _Smallville_. It was shortly after I had proposed to her that she began to act differently. She would always leave the house, and spend less time with me than before. I didn't think much of it, I just thought that she was planning the details of the wedding with her friends and family. After we got married, she went back to normal, and I thought no more of it.

"But when she got pregnant with my little 'Bell, she began to act even more...withdrawn, I guess. She drew herself away from me, ever so slowly. At the time, I was getting ready to leave for Qatar, so I thought that...maybe she was just trying to adjust for my leaving. We always talked to each other at least once a week, wither it was by webcam or by a phone call. She sent me pictures of her pregnancy, of 'Bell when she was still in the womb, and I was so _happy_. And when she gave birth to her, I was...ecstatic to finally be able to see 'Bell. The only thing that beats that day is the day I first got to hold her." A gentle smile crossed Will's face as he turned to look at his daughter, who was still sound asleep.

"When we were finally rescued from Qatar, the first thing on my mind was my baby girl and wife. They were my reason for surviving. And when I got home, I was pretty much oblivious to everything for the first few weeks, just spending time with my baby girl and my wife. But...I started to notice that Sarah would start disappearing all the time. She would say that she was either going to a friends house, or going to the store." Will's deep, hazel eyes were pained as they closed, his hand gripping tightly against the seat.

"It was about three weeks ago that I finally figured out that something was really wrong. I had to take Annabelle to the hospital because she had gone into an allergic reaction with some of the raspberries I had been feeding her. I had tried calling Sarah on her cell phone but it kept going to voice mail, so finally, I called Lily.

"Sarah had said that she was going to Lily's house for a couple of drinks and 'girl time', but when I had asked Lily if I could talk to Sarah, Lily told me that she had Sarah hadn't seen each other in three months. That the last time they had seen each other was when Sarah had dropped 'Bell of so Lily could babysit her." Will took in a shuddering breath, blinking rapidly. Sam felt his gut clench. He was right, Sarah had...

"Then the phone calls started up," Will said, unknowingly interrupted Sam's thoughts. "She claimed that it was one of her fellow army wives, and she would go into the other room and talk for a few minutes rather then the three or four hour conversions she usually has with either her best friends or her family right in front of me. I...I didn't want to think that she was...that she was..." Will closed his eyes, waving his hand in the air vaguely. Taking another deep breath, he continued, "So I began to think that she had gotten hurt giving birth to Bell. So one day, I looked at her cell phone messages, just to see." Will paused there; he didn't want to talk about this, he really didn't, but he knew that he had to.

"She...she had two new phone numbers, one to a Brandon, no last name, and another to a law firm, that I later found out specializes in...in divorce cases. At the time, Sarah was out again with one of her friends, but I began to wonder if it was really a 'friend' and not this Brandon guy. I wasn't given the title 'Major' just for fun, after all. I knew how to put the pieces of a puzzle together. So, I put my little 'Bell down for a nap and waited for her to get home. When she got home, I confronted her about it. Long story short, we got into a huge fight, woke up Annabelle, and finally learned the truth; Sarah hadn't...she hadn't...she hadn't been faithful to me. She...had been seeing this 'Brandon' guy for well over four years now."

"Next day I fed Annabelle, put her into her play pen in the living room with Cinderella playing on the TV in case she got bored with her toys, and waited for Sarah to get up. When Sarah finally got up I told her that we were going to go to Lawson and Davidson, the law firm from her phone, and we were going to sign the papers that day. Sarah was both pissed and happy that I wasn't going to put up a fight. But what she didn't know was that I called one of the Army lawyers to meet us there, who also happened to be a close friend of my fathers' before he died. I wasn't going to walk in there without any back up, and let her take everything I was worth."

"When we got there, James, the lawyer, was waiting for me, and Sarah was beyond furious with me. I didn't think she knew that I was going to call my own lawyer to this battle, thinking that I wasn't going to fight her one the material things, let her bully me around so she got what she wanted. When Sarah's lawyer showed up we sat down and worked out the terms of the divorce. When ever something didn't go her way, she would begin to scream at me, and accuse me of trying to steal from her, when everything had been pretty much split fifty-fifty."

"The only thing I truly wanted out of that marriage was Annabelle, and Sarah was about ready to fight tooth and nail to have joint custody, even though it was clear that she really wanted nothing to do with Annabelle. It took several hours before Sarah was finally happy with what she got. She got half of everything that I had left to my name, and in exchange for full custody of Abby with holiday visitation, which she didn't know that she would have to come to me for, she got the house and half of our life savings."

"But, but that's highway robbery! You shouldn't have let her do that!" Sam protested as he pulled onto the Tranquility cut off.

"Yes, but if I hadn't given into her demands to give her the house, and half my money, she would have joint custody of Annabelle, and I didn't want her anywhere near that Bastard." At Sam's curious look, Will snorted angrily. "I did some research on Brandon – Brandon Wells, age forty-six, four ex-wives, three _dead_ wives, numerous charges for assault with a deadly weapon, drug possession, theft, and various other things that even thinking about makes me want to go and grab my gun and shoot something or someone."

Sam felt his anger and horror rising as he described his ex-wife's lover. Noticing the anger on the teens face, Will said, "Sarah will only get every other holiday like Christmas and Thanksgiving, and one weekend every few months until Annabelle is fifteen, then she will decide where she wants to go, and when she want's to go. It took us two days to get everything settled, and finally, we signed the papers and I gave her my wedding ring; I didn't want anything else to do with her. The sooner we got this done, the happier I would be.

"As I was leaving the attorney's office, I couldn't ignore my curiosity, and asked her when...when she had started sleeping with Brandon." Will felt tears in corners of his eyes, and hastily wiped them away. Sam looked at Will, sympathy and understanding on his face.

"She said that she had met Brandon about a year after we got together. That at first, it was just sex. But then it became more and more. Then...then as I was leaving the room, she said that...that there was a very high possibility that my little 'Bell wasn't mine." Will buried his face in his hands, letting the stress of the past months finally catch up with him. Sam looked at Will for a moment, before his eyes flashed in determination. He quickly pulled over to the side of the road, unbuckled his seat belt, and, when the Major turned to him in curiosity, reached forward and grasped the elder in a hug.

Lennox stiffened, shocked, before melting into the embrace, wrapping his own shaking hands around the slim body, burying his face into the crook of his neck, letting the tears fall freely down his face. Sam gently began to card a hand through the ex-Ranger's hair, his eyes closed in sorrow. He didn't whisper sweet nothings in his ear, just sat there, providing someone who was family, and comforted the heart broken man.

"I loved her Sam. With all my heart," Will whispered, his grip tightening around the skinny waist. Sam pressed his cheek closer to Will's head, whispering just as softly, "I know Will." His topaz eyes opened, showing the pain of his own break up that, while not as long as Will's had been, had been just as painful.

They stayed like that, comforting one another before finally drawing apart. Will, wiping his face with his larger, tanned hand, gave a short, bitter laugh. "I don't even have to take a blood test to see if Annabelle's mine," Will said, giving the boy he considered a little brother a rueful smile. Jerking his head towards where the little girl slept on, he said, "Only a Lennox can sleep threw an emotional hurricane." Sam grinned up at the man as he put his seat belt back on. Glancing at the clock, he sent a quick thank you up to the Gods that today was a late start thanks to the staff meeting.

Once the Honda was back on the road, Sam glanced at Will, who looked far less tense and more peaceful, and asked, "What would you do if she wasn't? Yours I mean." Will didn't even hesitate in his answer.

"Nothing. Even if she's not mine by blood, she's _my_ little girl; my little 'Bell."

Sam grinned at the Major, though it was quickly wiped off, only to be replaced by a look of horror as he turned onto his street. Will, curious, looked at what the brunet was looking at, though his face drained of color just as fast.

Sitting, mockingly innocently in the drive way, sat a two-thousand six yellow with black racing strips fifth-generation Chevrolet Camaro and a modified GMC Topkick C4000. Will and Sam glanced at each other, their eyes wide.

"Shit/Fuck," came the simultaneous response. Will slowly leaned forward and began to bang his head against the dash as Sam stopped the Honda Hybrid one house down from his house.

"By any chance," Sam said, his voice an octave higher than normal. Had this been any _other_ situation, Will would have laughed. Now though...now, Will didn't even trust using his own voice, knowing that it would be like Sam's. "– did you happen to tell Ironhide that you were coming out here?"

Will slowly shook his head no. Licking his lips, he croaked, "You?"

"No."

Silence.

"We're slagged, aren't we?"

"Yes."

Sam groaned and began to bang his head against the steering wheel. "Wanna go grab something to eat?" he suggested weakly. Will shot Sam an incredulous look.

"And prolong our torture...why?" Sam whimpered, slowly sinking in the seat. Once again, there was silence.

"How 'bout we use Bell as a shield?" At Will's panicked look, Sam hastily explained, "They won't hurt her! She has them wrapped around her pinky!" Will got a slightly thoughtful look, before slowly turning to look at his blissfully sleeping daughter.

"As much as I don't want to use her as a shield, it might be the best way to get out alive." Sam nodded his head rapidly.

"And, ya see, I _really_ like to live. If I hadn't, I would've given Meganuts" Sam ignored Will's snort of laughter, "the AllSpark instead of shoving it into his chest."

Both became quiet, looking at the innocent, sweet little girl. After several minutes of staring, they turned to look at each other, than nodded. Sam quickly brought the car into the driveway, parking it into the second garage – the one Bumblebee normally used to sleep in. Then, they sat there, gathering up their wills.

"Will."

"Yes?"

"If I don't make it, tell Mojo I love him."

Will nodded seriously. "If I don't make it, tell 'Bell I love her to." Both males turned to look at each other and shook hands. Then, as one, they unbuckled, shot out of their seats, and went to Annabelle's side of the car. Swallowing deeply, they gently eased the girl out of the car seat, their resolve to use the blonde haired girl as a shield nearly breaking when the little girl yawned cutely before snuggling into the warm chest of her father.

"You know..." Will mused, "they can probably hear us." Sam nodded.

"Most likely."

"Think they'll let us off if we beg for mercy?"

"No." the deep voice made both brown haired males freeze, their eyes widening. Slowly, as one, they turned around their already pale faces going even paler at the sight of a near Hugh Jackman look-a-like and a blonde haired teen standing a few inches shorter than the look-a-like, their arms crossed over their chests. Their electric blue eyes bored into their own golden brown, and both brunets felt the urge to crawl into a whole and die. Slowly, so _very_ slowly.

_x-(-X-X-)-x_

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Twitch.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Rustle of jeans on the couch.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

More nervous twitching.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

A bead of sweat trickles down a pale neck.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Sam felt like screaming, crying, and bashing his head into a concrete wall – hard – all at once. They had been frog marched up the path way by both Bumblebee's and Ironhide's holoforms as soon as they had been spotted inside of the garage. Annabelle had been taken into the spare bedroom upstairs, a baby monitor placed up on the TV, then, both Autobot's had sat on the couch, staring at the two humans.

Sam felt the urge to twitch again as the tapping from Bumblebee's fingers continued, before concentrating on evening his breathing. He hadn't meant to not call Bumblebee when he left for Will's place; he'd honest to Primus forgotten in his haste to make sure that he (Will) was alright! And now, here they sat, being stared at by the, admittedly very handsome, holoforms of their Guardians and best friends like they had gone and killed somebody!

Besides him, Will looked no better than he felt, and Sam felt a small wave of sympathy flash through him. He'd just gotten divorced and substantially kicked out of his own house, and now, here he was, being treated like a criminal.

Sam felt his foot twitch. _'Don't move. Don't react. Don't let them win.' _Sam's inner voiced chanted. _'If we show a sign of weakness, they'll pounce. While we should have left a note, they have no right to treat us like criminals!' _Sam gave a mental nod to his inner voice – hmm...maybe he _was_ more of a Witwicky than he thought...maybe he should talk to someone; after all, talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity. Sam let his eyes flicker up towards his Guardian's own hard, even stare, flinching minutely at the disapproval and anger there.

_'Oh man, he's pissed! He's pissed at us! I didn't mean to make him so mad!' _Sam wailed in his mind towards his inner self, which he had named James, though he kept his face schooled as possible, letting his eyes drift back down to the carpet. _'I don't want him to be mad! He hates us now! He's gonna leave us!' _Fear rippled through his body as the boy's heart began to speed up, before it was ruthlessly smashed by none other than James.

_'Shut up! He's not gonna hate us, nor is he gonna leave us!' _James scolded. In Sam's inner eye, James was the exact opposite of everything Sam was; while James was tall, Sam was short, barely reaching five foot five. James had muscles that made any girl, and even guys, drool over, while Sam had just enough to bench press seventy-five pounds. James' hair was a perfect combination of their mother's dark, sandy blonde wavy hair, and their father's thick, unruly mane, while Sam's was short, choppy, and curly. All in all, James was everything Sam wanted to be, but knew he would never be.

_'He's trying to trick us! This is his ploy, don't you see?'_ James said, glaring at the panicking other half, trying to calm Sam down before he alerted the 'Bot's to his distress. They most likely were already monitoring their brain waves and heart rates and would be able to tell that he (Sam) was about to go into a full blown panic attack.

_'Calm down! We can not let them win! Get a grip on our body, before you lose this chance! Do you want to get treated like a five year old again? Do you?' _James asked.

_'No...'_

_'Then don't fall for their tricks! We are stronger than that!'_

Sam nodded – mentally – and gave his thanks to James – again, mentally; he's not stupid enough to talk out loud! – and worked on calming his heart rate as discretely as possible. Steeling his nerves, Sam looked through his fringe of hair...

Only to snap his gaze back to floor, his heart once again picking up its pace. Bumblebee's eyes were still staring at him, filled with anger and disappointment, his face ice cold. In his mind, Sam curled up into a ball, scrunching his eyes closed and began to rock back and forth in a dark corner. Even James, who was so sure of themselves, faltered at the stare.

_'H-he's not gonna hate us; he's not.' _

James didn't even believe himself.

_'Right?'_

_x-(-X-X-)-x_

Bumblebee was furious; when he had come home just after seven o'clock, he had expected to find Samuel eating breakfast while watching one of his animes or cartoons that he loved to watch, wearing only a pair of gym shorts and his green frog slippers that had been given to him by his cousin Carly three years ago.

Instead, he found an empty house, a missing car, and _no. Fragging. Note_.

In a panic, he had instantly comm'd Ironhide, informing him that his charge was gone. Ironhide had tried to sooth Bumblebee's panicky processor while he called William, only to find that he wasn't at his _ex-wife's_ house any more either. Ironhide had been more than hurt when Sarah had informed Ironhide that she and Will had just gotten a divorce – he had had to look it up on the internet – and that she had gotten the house and over half their life insurance money, while Will got full custody of Annabelle, and had left this morning with that 'freaky Witwillicky brat'. He'd been hurt because William, his human Charge, hadn't thought to tell him that he and Sarah were going through a rough patch.

Of course, that had led the Weapons specialist's processor to go on overdrive, leading Ironhide to the conclusion that it had been because of _him_ that his Charge's marriage had been ruined. Then, it had been Bumblebee's turn to sooth the panicky mech.

They had quickly pulled into the Witwicky driveway, parked, then activated their holoforms, knowing that their Charge's should be home soon, since the drive was roughly forty-five minutes away. After activating their holoforms, the two had strolled into the house, and sat on the large leather couch.

Finally, they heard Sam's femme-Creator's Honda Hybrid turn on their street, only for it to stop one house away. They sat there and waited, their concern and hurt turning into anger and disappointment. When they heard the car pull into Bumblebee's garage, they quickly dissolved their holoforms and reconstructed them right behind their humans.

Now, five minutes later, both Ironhide and Bumblebee sat on the couch, staring at their Charges. From a normal human's view point, they didn't look at all affected; their faces where blank, their eyes not focused on anything in particular. However, they were Transformers – autonomous robotic organisms from their planet Cybertron.

They easily picked up the elevated heart rates, the frantic patterns in their brain waves – though more noticeably in Samuel's than William's – their anxiety and nervousness rolling off of them like waves. It was all so easy.

So they decided that their charge's needed to be taught a lesson – and they decided to guilt trip them. So, with practiced ease, they put on their most disproving and angry faces, froze it in place with their nanites, then sat back to watch them crack. It wasn't exactly the _nicest_ thing to do, but they were to angry to care.

However, when they felt the spike of fear that, just as quickly as it came, vanished, they both became puzzled. Reviewing the spike, they found that it came from none other than Samuel, whose heart was now well above what was normal – and healthy – and his brain was going haywire. Just as they were beginning to fear that they had gone too far, it was gone. His heart rate, while still a bit high, was in a safer range of showing that he was anxious, but not _fearful_, as were his brainwaves.

Curiosity tinged their private links, though they once again relaxed their processors.

_::Should we stop?:: _Bumblebee asked, keeping an optic on his Charge. Ironhide gave a grunt over his link, but sent acceptance.

_::Yes. I'd rather not make our Humans give themselves cardiac arrest because we just stared at them:: _Ironhide replied gruffly. Bumblebee gave a mental nod of his head in agreement. ::_You first, or me?::_

_::Me; Samuel has school in fifteen point seven six Earth minutes:: _Bumblebee replied. Ironhide gave a grunt of agreement and both returned their full attention back to their Humans, just in time to see Samuel give a small, barely noticeable flinch. Not even William, who was sitting right next to Samuel, was able to see it. Concern lit their link at the flinch – did they already go to far?

Pushing his own slight apprehension away, Bumblebee slowly sat forward, easily gaining the attention of their Humans. Both their faces were blank, but the apprehension was clear in their eyes.

"So..." Bumblebee drawled, letting his British accent – which he still found amazing – roll off of his vocal processor. "would you mind telling me why, when I came home, there was no one here, your femme-Creator's car was gone, and not even a _text message_ telling me where you had gone, Samuel?" as soon as his Charge's full name slipped from his lips, the fear rose and disappeared, and the brunet teenager flinched, though this time, so did William.

Sending a query over their link, Bumblebee received a short data burst about how, whenever they were scolding the two humans, the didn't call them by their nicknames, they called them by their full names. Ah, that made more sense.

"W-well...y-you see I uh...received a call from Will earlier and he, um, asked for my help. So I took my mom's car, and drove to Will's place, and um...drove him back. Yeah." Samuel trailed of lamely, his eyes refusing to look at Bumblebee's. A slight frown fluttered over his holoforms face; Samuel was stuttering over his words. That didn't happen very often; in fact, the first and only time he'd heard Samuel do that was when he had been confronted by Barricade. Concern washed over him when he noticed that the Human was _purposely_ avoiding eye contact.

Leaning his elbows on his knees, interlinking his fingers together, Bumblebee placed his chin on his interlocked servos and looked at his charge; just looked. The disappointment was still there, as was the anger, though it was slowly being overpowered by concern. It was only when Samuel's eyes flickered up to his, before quickly flickering away that Bumblebee realized what was wrong, his spark clenching with guilt.

_::Ironhide...I think we went too far...::_ Bumblebee whispered over the link, guilt layering his voice. Besides him Ironhide stiffened as he finally got what Bumblebee had.

Samuel was _scared_. Scared that he'd actually made the yellow scout truly angry with him. ::_Slag:: _Ironhide deadpanned. Bumblebee opened his mouth, getting ready to apologize when the clock in the hallway began to chime. Sam's eyes widened as he saw the time, and, with one last look at the two Autobots, bolted from the room.

Bumblebee groaned and lowered his head into his servos. And there went his chance to apologize. Sighing, he turned to look at Will, whose tormented hazel orbs were guarded, watching them warily, though it was quickly schooled off his face as soon as they turned to look at him. It was in that nano-klik that they saw what their anger and disappointment had blinded them to; the sorrow, anger, fear, and soul crushing _hurt_ dwelling in those depths, caused both their sparks to clench with guilt again.

Instead of comforting the obviously hurting human, who had just gotten out of a messy divorce and been kicked out of his own house, they had sat him down, took his daughter away, and tried to intimidate them.

_::We went to far...:: _Ironhide moaned over the link. Bumblebee nodded dejectedly before dissipating his holoform as Sam came back down the stairs, carrying an awake Annabelle on his hip. He stopped outside the doorway, shifting nervously on his feet before quickly scuttling over to Ironhide's charge and handed off the little sparkling to the man before bolting out of the house, leaving a tense, hurting ex-Army Ranger and trigger happy Autobot.

x-(-X-X-)-x

Sam bolted out the front door, ignoring James telling him to 'slow down!', only for them both to halt when they saw Bumblebee's holoform of a nineteen year old male, with shaggy blonde hair and a good, solid frame sitting behind the wheel of his alt-form.

_'We have to...'_

_'Yes.'_

Barely suppressing the urge to whimper, the teenager shuffled over to the passenger side. Getting in when the door opened automatically, the brunet began to force himself to count to one-hundred in German, trying to calm his shaking nerves as he buckled himself in.

Once he was in, Bumblebee backed out of the drive way, before shooting off towards Tranquility high school. Sam forced his eyes to stay straight ahead, his body tensed in 'Fight or Flight Mode'. He didn't even notice that he was picking at his cuticles, until a warm hand rested atop his. Jumping, Sam turned wide eyes to look at Bumblebee's holoform, who was glancing at him in concern. It was only then that he noticed that they were parked outside his school, underneath a shady tree. Sam tugged at his hand, wanting to just get out of Bumblebee and go to school, but the holoform refused. Instead, he lifted the tanned hand higher, examining the bleeding cuticles.

A frown marred his noble, elfin looking face at the damage, and Bumblebee sent a stern look at his Charge.

"Sam," he sighed, reaching over the tense body to reach into his glove compartment to pull out the first aid kit that Ratchet had made for them in case of an emergency. Sam blinked a couple of times at the sound of his name, his mouth falling open a bit at the knowledge that he had called him by 'Sam', not 'Samuel'.

_'See? He's not mad at us! He doesn't hate us!'_James whispered in the back of Sam's mind ecstatically, his own relief pliable to his other half. Said boy was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that the yellow mech had called him by 'Sam', when he yelped in slight pain at the sudden stinging sensation on his hand. Bumblebee sent his charge a small grimace in apology, gently setting the antiseptic into his cup holder. Gently blowing on the still bleeding fingers, he quickly and firmly placed bandages around each of the damaged fingers. Bringing them up to eye level again, the holoform inspected the hand before nodding in satisfaction and gently returned Sam's hand to his side.

Electric blue eyes caught topaz brown as Bumblebee's hand gently placed itself on the side of Sam's face.

"I'm not mad at you Sam; disappointed, yes, but not mad. I was at first, but I have had time to think it over, though now I realize that my deliberating took to long. For that, I am sorry for causing you such distress." the yellow mech informed his charge, but his lips never moved. Instead, it came from his radio. Sam slowly began to relax into Bumblebee' seat as it slowly began to heat up. He felt his eyes become heavier, and he leaned his head more into the warm hand of his best friends holoform.

"'ts okay," he murmured tiredly, his eyes slowly drooping, his body crying out for more than the measly four hours of sleep it had gotten the night before. "'ts not your fault 'Bee. Should'a called, should'a left a note."

Bumblebee smiled sadly as he watched his charge struggle to stay conscious, even as he snuggled further down into his seats. "Yes, you should have, but I should not have overreacted like that." Bumblebee grinned when he saw the tired glare the teenager tired to send his way. He wanted to ask his charge if he had slept that night, though refrained from doing so; it was obvious the other had not. Slowly, the holoform of the Autobot scout began to card his servo through the short, silky locks of his Human's hair.

"Go to sleep Sam; I will watch over you."

"M'kay," the brunet sighed, finally letting himself drift into the arms of Morpheus.

x-(-X-X-)-x

**Wow! Three new stories in the past week! **_So! How was it? Good? Bad? Terrible?_ **Please read and review for us****! We love to hear your comments!  
**_And remember, if you don't understand something, it will most likely be explained in a later chapter!_

**_Ciao!_  
**

**_The Homunculi Twins_**


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